


Marble and Bronze

by MissBinx



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Be gentle on me, Blackmail, Dark fic as written by someone who only does fluff, HEA, I'm sorry this sucks, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Objectum-Sexuality, Rey is a statue humper, Sexual Coercion, agalmatophilia, body painting, cum, idk what you call a kink where you like to fuck someone immobile, immobile sex, kinkuary, objectophilia, so yeah... that, thigh humping, thigh job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBinx/pseuds/MissBinx
Summary: Rey is an Agalmatophile (sexually attracted to statues) & sneaks into a museum at night. Curator Ben catches her humping the thigh of a statue. He is also an Agalmatophile and makes a deal - he won't turn her in if she lets him cover her in bronze paint and fuck her unmoving body.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 115
Collections: Kinkuary Prompt Challenge





	Marble and Bronze

**Author's Note:**

> Art References - 
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/MG9SfC1)  
> [upload gif image](https://imgbb.com/)  
> Orpheus by Cristoforo Stati
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/M7t2qdj)  
> [upload gif image](https://imgbb.com/)  
> The Little Mermaid by Edvard Eriksen

Rey is not good at many things: keeping a job, maintaining relationships, planning for the future. But she is good at hiding -- when the evening comes, she tucks herself into the darkest corners where quiet footsteps and eager eyes can’t find her. She is good at hiding  _ things _ too. None of her acquaintances or co-workers would guess how depraved she is or the reason she has a yearly pass to the Met. She is bright and bubbly and well-liked and if any of them knew what she was up to…

When the lights dim, signaling the close of day, Rey steps out of the shadows and toes off her flats, wiggling and flexing her toes against the cool marble floors. She sighs and unbuttons her white blouse, letting it fall to the floor as she turns over her plans in her head. She has exactly fifteen minutes until the night guard makes his first rounds, but Rey knows she won’t need that long -- it’s been weeks since her last visit and she’s strung higher than she can remember.

Her jeans come off next and Rey sighs in relief. She’d forgone underwear today and as she laid low in the shadows, waiting for the museum to close, the anticipation of what she is going to do had her so wound up that she’d been undulating her hips against the stiff seam of the denim and now her clit was swollen and achy.

As she steps forward, leaving her pile of clothes behind, she reaches between her legs and collects wetness on her fingers, dragging it up to dampen her clit as she takes her time choosing a partner. Tonight, her legs guide her to the marble statue of Orpheus, who stands naked as he strums his violin, and as she eyes him hungrily, Rey feels like an animal that needs to be tamed.

She licks her lips and steps up onto the stand. Her hand reaches up and cups Orpheus’ face gently and she shivers because the marble is cold against her heated palm. He is not looking down at her the way she gazes at him, but that doesn’t bother Rey. She doubts that he would admire her so lovingly anyway.

She pulls herself up carefully, bringing his thigh between her legs and she presses her cunt against the marble. The moan bubbles up without thinking and she bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut as she seats herself firmly against the statue. Her hips start moving, back and forth and the lips of her pussy part against the stone. With each thrust, the statue becomes more and more slippery with her arousal and she’s huffing and panting as the blunt marble rubs her clit just right. She’s so lost in herself that she doesn’t even hear the footsteps.

*****

Ben knows that he needs to take a break or he’ll fall asleep. He’s been unpacking and cataloguing the impressionism paintings they’d just received on loan from the Louvre and he’s so tired he can barely see straight. He’s the last curator working and he’s still got hours ahead of him -- if he doesn’t wake himself up, he’ll fall asleep and then the exhibit won’t be ready in time. 

He stands and helps himself to a cup of hours-old coffee that some interns had brewed before leaving, but it’s not enough. He decides that a walk would do him good and leaves the prep room to wander the gallery. There are guards around, he knows this because they sometimes stop by to chat or get coffee, but tonight the museum feels dead. Tonight, he is drawn to the European sculpture wing -- there’s something otherworldly about the alabaster statues in dim lighting. He walks towards the pre-Christian works and almost decides to skip the post-Renaissance room altogether but he hears something that makes him freeze -- a moan.

_ Teenagers, _ he thinks and he’s so angry that he decides to skip grabbing a security guard out of fear they may already be gone by the time he gets back.

What he does not expect, however, is to find a nude woman. She is thin -- her long arms are wrapped around Orpheus’ neck and he follows the line of her muscular back into a tapered waist and round ass. Her legs are long too -- so long -- and she’s got them on either side of Orpheus’ thigh, gyrating against him.

He stands frozen, but he can’t look away as her hips start to move faster, and behind her little pants and moans, he can hear the sound of her wet cunt as she practically slaps it against the marble. 

Her hands slide from Orpheus’ neck, gripping his shoulders and she hoists herself higher, pressing her cunt right against the statue’s groin. Her legs wrap around his waist and she rubs herself against the smooth contours of Orpheus’ cock and balls. It must feel good because her back arches and she cries out, resting her head against the statue’s chest and she wiggles her hips like she’s trying to actually draw the inanimate marble cock into her warm, wet cunt.

He doesn’t think he’s every seen something so god damn sexy as this woman trying to fuck herself on a priceless piece of artwork. “Fuck,” Ben curses and he’s so hard he has to reach down and squeeze himself. He wonders if she’ll be able to slide any of the flaccid marble into her tight little cunt and when he moves closer to watch, his footsteps echo against the walls in his eagerness.

So loud that the statue fucker loses her balance and almost sends Orpheus off of his pedestal. It is heavy though and only teeters on its stand as the woman falls to the floor. When she turns to look at him, her face is flushed and her eyes are wide. “I-I…”

Ben takes a step closer and the woman looks so scared that it should dampen his libido, but it doesn’t. The way she sits on the floor, with one hand pressed against the floor and the other across her lap and her legs bent behind her, reminds Ben of Eriksen’s bronze statue of The Little Mermaid. “Hmm?” he says calmly, as though waiting for her to continue.

“I can explain,” she says quietly and she won’t look him in the eyes. “Please don’t call the police.”

He watches her sad expression, the doleful hazel eyes and pouting lips, and he thinks that she is beautiful like this. He wishes he could have seen if she were equally as beautiful as she pleasured herself with her marble God. His hand is still on his crotch and he brushes his fingertips up and down the length of his cock as it strains against his wool slacks. His thumb and forefinger circle the bulbous tip and he squeezes lightly, trying to decide what he’s going to do with his little nymph. “Come with me,” he finally says and when he turns away, knowing she’ll follow, he unbuckles his belt.

*****

Rey always knew that she’d get caught eventually but she can admit to herself that she’s been foolish and careless in her hedonistic desires. She doesn’t know why the motionless statues but what really makes her cry is that now everyone will know that she gets off on humping statues.

As the man walks away, Rey stops to pick up her clothes and she hates herself for being so stupid. She thinks about running away, her muscles twitch with the want, because she is good at running away too. Maybe she is even better at running away than she is at hiding -- it’s why she’s never been in a relationship, why she’s never felt comfortable being herself around others.

These statues don’t judge her -- they don’t look at her judgingly or cling to her needily. They just  _ are.  _ “Hurry,” the man tells her and when she pauses to pull her shirt on, he shakes his head and Rey notices for the first time that he is  _ touching _ himself. He’s got his pants open and his hand shoved inside and it’s moving as he looks back at her.

She swallows and looks away and her clammy feet make a sound against the floor that is reminiscent of when she rubs herself against the marble. She shivers.

He leaders her into the employees only area and through a studio of restoration work where he stops to look at a row of paint cans. Rey thinks maybe she should put on her clothes as he is distracted but the stern look he gives her when she begins to unfold her clothes makes her stop. She has a feeling she knows what he wants from her and it makes her stomach roil. “I...I want to go,” she says as he finally finds what he is looking for.

“You want me to call the police?” he asks and when he turns to her, he is gripping the can in his huge fist like it’s a tiny can of soda.

“No, please,” Rey’s voice quivers and she meets his eyes for the first time. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean the statue. I’ll pay you. I’ll--”

He stalks towards her and knocks the pile of clothes from her hands, kicking them away from her when they fall to the floor. “I won’t call the police.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Her voice is desperate and she blinks back the tears in her eyes. The man says nothing as he opens the can of paint and rifles through a drawer until he finds a thick, bushy paint brush.

“I want something in return,” he tells her calmly as he dips the brush into the shimmering bronze paint. 

“What?” Her voice shakes and she swallows as he comes closer.

“You,” he says and his voice is like a growl as he brings the brush to her neck, swiping a long, smooth stroke down the column of her throat. Her head tips back of its own will, exposing more of her smooth skin to him.

She doesn’t say anything as the paintbrush travels down the valley between her breasts to her belly button. He’s blackmailing her into sex and it makes her angry and scares her, but it also excites her in the same way that the riskiness of trespassing in the museum always has.

He dips the brush into the paint again and this time, it slides along the slope of her left breast and Rey shivers as the liquid draws her nipple into a stiff peak. 

He licks his lips and asks, “What is your name?” He moves onto her other breast and this time, he makes no effort to hide that he is playing with body. He flicks the stiff bristles of the brush back and forth over her nipple, teasing it until it is so hard she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

“Rey,” she breathes, and she doesn’t want to sound as aroused as she is. She can’t help it and she realizes maybe she is even more perverted than she originally thought.

“You like marble, Rey?” he asks and he has moved on to covering her arms in the paint but Rey’s nipples are still begging for attention and she has fidgets, resisting the urge to pluck and pull at them.

“Yes,” she answers quietly and honestly, because she does like the marble. She likes how cool and smooth and hard it is and she looks down her lashes at the man as he crouches and begins painting her legs. She wonders if he is hard like marble too.

“Hmm,” he hums and when he glances up, their eyes meet. “I like bronze.”

It clicks then, that he is painting her like a bronze statue and it sends a thrill through her, replacing the anger and indignation she had been feeling at being blackmailed. Was he like her? “What’s your name?” she asks and his eyes flick back up to hers. There are flecks of bronze there and it heats her belly and makes moisture pool between her legs.

“Ben,” he says and his brush comes to the juncture between her legs. “Spread your legs, Rey,” he commands and Rey’s body does what he asks.

When he swipes the brush along her cunt, Rey shivers. It’s cold like the marble and with skilled hands, he spreads the lips of her pussy and strokes her clit with the brush. She cries out and her hips jerk. He is so close, looking at her cunt in concentration, like it's a piece of art he’s trying to find the meaning behind. “Stay still,” he tells her and stands, tearing his attention away from her womanhood.

The paint is starting to dry and it’s stretching her skin tight and making it hard to move. He makes quick work of posing her arms, one curled up in front of her and one stretched in an arch over her head like a ballerina. He positions her legs too, spreads them just far enough apart that the half dry pain on her cunt slowly spreads her lips apart and makes her shiver.

He paints her back too, but she can tell without looking that it’s sloppy and that he is eager to do whatever it is he plans on doing to her. She hears the can set down on a table with a thunk behind her and then the clanking of his belt buckle as he opens his trousers.

When he comes back around her, he’s pulled himself from his pants and is stroking himself. 

He steps back to admire his handiwork -- to admire  _ her --  _ and Rey stands with her back a little straighter. “Beautiful,” he whispers and the skin on skin sound of him jerking off draws her attention to his hand.

His cock is big and looks heavy even in his large fist. The tip is red and sticky looking and Rey realizes as she stares at it, that her cunt is still aching to be filled from her earlier failed attempts with Orpheus. When she tries to bring her hand to touch herself, maybe slip a finger inside to ready herself for what she’s now sure he’s going to do, Ben barks, “Don’t move.”

He lets go of his cock and it bobs in front of him as he pulls his sweater off and pushes his pants down, stepping out of them before stalking towards Rey.

He  _ is _ marble, she thinks. She knows without touching him that he is hard and his stomach is so smooth and chiseled, she thinks about how much she wants to rub herself against it. To feel the ripple of his muscles along the slippery lips of her pussy. She wants to hump his stomach and his thighs and even the ridge of his Roman nose. She is dripping wet thinking about it and he is beautiful.

“You’re a lovely statue, Rey,” he tells her as he steps closer and his cock slides into the space between her thighs. “Don’t move. Don’t move or I’ll stop.”

She keeps her arms in the pose, even as they begin to strain, and he steps into the space between her outstretched and her body -- the arm curved in front of her holds him against her like a lover’s embrace. His hips begin to move and he reaches down, pushing her thighs together so that his cock is squeezed tight between them and he groans.

His body isn’t cool like marble, but Rey finds that she doesn’t mind how warm he is. It makes her hot and dizzy in a way that she never feels with the statues. His breath is tickling the hairs on her neck and she has trouble not moving when his cock slips between her pussing lips and drags against her clit with each sticky slide. She wants to grind herself against it too, rub herself on it like she’s so used to doing, but Ben wants her still and she wants to be good for him. She wants him to use her the way she’s been using all of his statues.

He stops what he’s doing and Rey makes a sobbing noise in her throat because she’s so close but then he angles his hips up and notches the head of his cock against her opening. “Such a beautiful statue,” he says. “I can’t help it.”

Rey fights the urge to nod because she knows what it’s like to not be able to help it. She wants him to fill her and fuck her. The tip slips inside and it burns, but she’s already on fire. She wants to tell him, but she’s not allowed to move.

He holds onto her hips and his grip is so tight that it hurts as he bends his knees and pushes in further. “So good,” he breathes. “So perfect.” 

She swallows and she’s sure he can hear it but she holds her body still as he pushes in. She isn’t sure how she’s still standing and it’s such a tight fit with the way her legs are only spread half a foot apart. He shouldn’t fit, but he does, and she looks down to eye the way she can see herself impaled on his thick cock. She can’t help the way her hips shimmy, trying to pull him in deeper.

He reaches up, wrapping his hand around her throat and she goes still. “Don’t move.” She nods and he squeezes her throat, making her cunt flutter around him, before he lets go.

“I didn’t know,” he says as his hips pull back and the drag of his cock along her walls is too much. “I didn’t know it felt so good. Fucking a statue. Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he pants as he slams in hard. The hands holding her hips move back and he grabs handfuls of her ass, using it as leverage to slam her cunt down on his dick.

Rey can’t help the sob of pleasure that tumbles out but she’s a good statue -- perfect like he says -- and she doesn’t move. 

“God,” he groans, maneuvering her over his cock. The room is filled with the wet sounds of her cunt, the slap of skin on skin. He has to let go of her ass to squeeze a hand between their bodies and he thumbs her clit.

“Who made you?” he breathes against her neck. “Who made you so perfect for me, Rey?”

She sees stars behind her eyes as her orgasm tears through her, but she stays still for him, the only part of her that moves are the rippling walls of her cunt as she climaxes. “Fuck,” he says. “Fuck.”

He pulls out and wraps a hand around himself, pumping his cock as he spurts stream after stream of cum onto her stomach. When he’s done, he looks at his handiwork as he catches his breath and says, “Now you’re perfect.”

Her arms and legs are shaking and Ben leads her to a chair. “You were so good,” he tells her and leans down to touch her chin and neck. “Let me get you a water,” he offers and leaves the room.

Rey looks down at herself, covered in paint and cum, and she doesn’t know what to do. She isn’t good with people and she doesn’t know what to say to Ben when he gets back so she gathers her clothes and quickly puts them on.

*****

Ben is at the vending machine when he hears the alarms and he knows, with a sinking heart, that Rey is gone. When he gets back to the studio, it is empty save for a few shimmering footprints and he runs a hand through his hair. 

He could write this entire thing off as a fever dream, but he knows it was real. It isn’t until a few hours later, when he is unboxing a Matisse, that he feels the first coils of disgust twisting up his stomach. 

Rey was unlike anyone he’d ever met before and her  _ appreciation _ of art awoke something in him that he hadn’t been able to control. In his excitement of finding someone who he could share himself with fully, he’d done the unthinkable. And he was realizing now that just because she’d let him do it to her, that didn’t mean that she wanted it.

He’d blackmailed her into sleeping with him.

Over the next few days, he’s desperate to find her. To apologize and beg for her forgiveness and hope that she could see how perfect they are for each other. But it’s New York City and he didn’t know if Rey was short for Rachel or Reyna or what her last name was or if she’d even been honest about her name.

It’s a struggle not to let the guilt eat at him. He goes over and over in his head about how he could have approached the situation differently and how if he had, maybe Rey would have stuck around. 

A week passes, and he gives up. He’s tired and when he sits in the studio at night, he can only picture how perfect Rey looked covered in golden paint and when he’d posed her. How stiff and motionless she’d kept her body as he fucked her. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks about how much she’d seemed to like it and he writes it off as being horny and sleep deprived.

He takes walks frequently, mostly to get out of the space he’d shared with Rey, but also to wander the halls in hope that she would return, that he’d catch her in a repeat performance. He wouldn’t stop her this time, he’d let her finish and then afterwards tell her again how beautiful and perfect she is. But she doesn’t come back, not after a couple days and not after a full week.

He’s given up hope after almost two weeks pass, so tonight he fills his time with idle chit-chat with the night guards so that he doesn’t have to think about Rey. When he can’t avoid work any longer, he returns to the studio but what he sees stops him in his tracks. “Rey.”

She is perched on a stool and he wonders how she’s snuck around all night without being caught. “Hi, Ben.”

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he says and rushes to where she sits. “I’m so sorry…”

She cuts him off, “I’ve been thinking about you too.” She looks shy, uncomfortable, but a small smile plays at her lips.

“You have?” he asks, and his heart races.

She nods and holds up the can. White paint. Her voice is coy and she looks up at him through her eyelashes as she blushes and finishes, “I was thinking… maybe you can be the statue this time?”

*****


End file.
